What is a Slave?
#1
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OOC Dec 13

Word Count → 000


Amy was actually getting some decent travel in. She was crossing all over the plains, enjoying the openness of it. It was better than the narrow stretch she'd been through at first, several packs crammed together. Here there was plenty of distance between them. On the one hand this meant that Amy had to deal with borders a lot less. She considered it irritating to have to follow them, especially since she considered herself master of the land. On the other hand though, the open space meant canines to trade with were less common.


Amy pulled her wagon to a halt in front of another pack. She studied the lands, bored by the common appearance. It appeared to be well enough, lots of trees and space to roam. It looked like almost every other pack she'd come across too. The dusting of snow covering it didn't change the fact. In the back Hadley let out a groan. His wounds were healing, but he still complained when put to work. Only when he thought he was out of her earshot though. Each complaint was met by another nick on his body. Unlike Alexandrea Hadley didn't need to be in perfect condition when sold. He just needed to appear strong. Scars actually added to that.


Straightening up Amy turned around. She left her place beside her horse, heading to the back. There sat Hadley, cradling his arm. The scab had broken open again. He looked up as she approached, whimpering as he tried to escape. Now now, none of that. Amy's voice was gentle, almost soothing. Swiftly she grabbed the arm, and tore the scab the rest of the way open. Don't complain. Hadley shut up, grabbing the bag of crafts Amy had told him to carry. The wagon was too full for it, but she was unwilling to part with the treasure.


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#2
+3

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The snow was only light so far this winter, but Caspa could well remember last year's harsh storms. Soon perhaps similar conditions would return, and bring world-worn stragglers like herself back to the borders. She was proud of her recently reclaimed condition: she was in the shape of her life. Not that this was saying much for the spidery hound, but her flesh was taut and relatively well filled out, her fur soft and thick. The new Royal puppies seemed to have given a new lease of life to the packlands, especially now they were out and about, and the war was fading into only a memory, replaced by the new scheme of bringing happiness to other by amusing them with various practiced antics as part of a performance. She had considered the philosophical implications of this deeply in a way that would be highly boring to anybody else, and decided that it was indeed a worthwhile venture. Which was good, because she was having fun working with her juggling and as the incorrigible Terra's accomplice.


Life tasted as sweet as the fresh wintry air to Caspa this day. Her breath came in short puffs of white air, a novelty of the frosty season. She blew on her hands to warm them, and was amazed to hear a horse's snort come at that moment. No, she hadn't made that noise: there really must be a horse nearby. She lowered her palms, and caught sight of the wagon standing just to the outside of the Court borders. It wasn't the same as the Cercatori caravan, but it could easily be supposed to be one of a similar vein. She remembered fondly Skye and her entourage, who'd brought her the beginnings of her small flock of chickens. Her stride was sprightly as she drew alongside the wagon, skirting the horse and knocking her knuckles on the side, hoping to alert the wagon's owner as to her presence.

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#3
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OOC I just realized that if you buy some furs you get the courtier prompt

Word Count → 000


The knocking startled Amy from her revery. She'd been watching Hadley, making sure that the injury wasn't too horrible. It wasn't a check against her violent nature. Amy could happily tear someone apart without a thought. The problem was that if the injury was too severe he couldn't work. That meant more time and items spent into healing him. It hadn't bothered her when she'd first collected him. After all, Hadley had been a toy turned into a convenient slave. Now that he was a slave, Amy couldn't use him as a convenient toy. She'd have to find an outlet elsewhere.


Amy came round to the front of her wagon, facing the person who had knocked at her wagon. It was a wiry dog, wispy white hair covering her body. Amy's calculating eye examined the dog, measuring her worth. She could see the thin muscle underneath, and it rather pleased her. Still, the dog was part of a pack. Taking one of their members was sure to upset trade relations. It was much better to treat her as a customer.


Hello. Welcome to my shop. Are you interested in buying anything? With a flourish of her arm Amy pulled back the cover of the wagon, revealing the wealth inside. Glinting weapons lined the far side, with jewelry hung in between. Gorgeous cloth sat on the ground with delicate outfits of various sizes on top. There were even plain furs for those who preferred making their own stuff.


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#4
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A truly multi-tasking thread! Maybe she could give the furs in exchange for guide duty?


However much Caspa appreciated her little clan and was stoically fond of many of its inhabitants, she would never know how much she had to thank it for. The scent of the Cour on her fur was enough to warn off many a frightful monster, but she would never have assumed this golden lady amongst those ranks, although her eyes were somewhat sharp. Caspa was no stranger to forbidding expressions, most of the ones found on her own features fell into that category despite her otherwise unthreatening appearance. Not today though. The stranger was unfortunately not from Cercatori d'Arte - not from any pack at all, by the looks of things - but she had travelling companions in the wheeled contraption, and was obviously a trader, so Caspa was willing to be welcoming. She stepped politely back from the wagon to view the interior. "For myself, I have all I need," she answered simply. "My pack has welcomed traders in the past, though, from a pack north of here... we could use those furs." Her mind wandered to that baggy coat of Terra's. Perhaps with a few fur trimmings it could be even more spectacular. "I have nothing to give right now, however and it is not my place to invite you in." She spread her hands with regret. Perhaps the woman was willing to wait for someone to grant entrance, or for Caspa to go and fetch suitable trading materials, and perhaps not. "What is your name? I could summon a leader to consider your offer...?"

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#5
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OOC

Word Count → 000


Amy smiled slightly. The female may have believed she had nothing to trade, but she knew otherwise. Amy didn't just trade for tangible items. She traded for knowledge, services, and her favorite, favors. Favors were the ones that burdened pack leaders, making them bend to her will. It was an unending obligation to do what she asked of them, in exchange for what she had given. Once a favor was given, Amy always made sure that debt remained. She always gave more, always increasing it, so they could never escape her grasp.


My name is Amy. It's alright if you don't have anything to give me. I don't just trade in materials. I also take new information that I don't have, services, and...a promise that you'll do me a favor in exchange for what I give you. Yes, a promise was the right way to put it. She didn't want to frighten the poor girl.


Behind her Hadley shuffled into view. Nervously he glanced at the dog that was addressing his master. All his soul yearned to give her a warning, but he didn't dare. The punishment would be too great. He wasn't broken just yet, but Amy was well on his way to making that happen. Another couple weeks in her care and he wouldn't even remember what it was like to not be a slave.


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#6
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She was trying to snatch sidelong glances at the fur, wondering if there were any in deepest black - ideally a bear of course. The woman seemed determined to make a trade, and willing to take Caspa on her honour. This was fitting. Nowhere else would she find a creature with such a tenacious sense of honour. Because of this, Caspa was wary of pledging herself unless she knew exactly what was expected. "That is a generous offer. What did you have in mind?"


The other wolf then emerged from behind the wagon and Caspa squinted with concern at his chest-scars, not noticing the rest of the little cuts straight away. She could smell something of his anxiety on the air, and assumed the trading troop had been the victim of a recent attack. "Hello," she said, moving to the side of Amy so he could see her solitary and sapling-slender figure properly - there was nothing to fear from Caspa, without her poisonous knives equipped. Even those long and powerful jaws had so rarely been used for their intended purpose - killing. "I am Caspa, a courtier of this pack." The word courtier was wonderfully peaceful sounding, and she hoped it helped calm him. "Do you two travel alone?" The scents aboard the wagon were as mixed as a group of traders could be expected to be, with goods that had changed hands or different packlands visited. It didn't occur to her to fear them even for a moment. She had the weight of her pack behind her, and they had already taught their more aggressive neighbours that it didn't pay to tangle with the Court wolves.

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#7
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OOC

Word Count → 000


Amy's head snapped around, glaring at Hadley. He was supposed to be working in the back, not snooping around like a beggar. He was lucky Caspa hadn't been offended by his appearance. If anything it seemed to soften the girl, making her more willing to deal with her. She nodded her head, calling him forward. Nervously Hadley stepped up, making sure to keep behind Amy. Caspa appeared sweet and innocent, but so did Amy. He would do nothing to invoke her wrath.


She shook her head at Caspa's question. There is another one, but I've sent her to do something for me. Amy wasn't afraid that Alexandrea would try and make a break for it. Her horror at seeing Hadley when she'd brought him in was enough to guarantee her good behavior, at least for a short while. I'm afraid it depends on what you wish for, and the extent of your knowledge. I always give good value for what I'm given, but I won't know until you ask. Favors were vague for her, simple claims. Depending on what the dog asked for Amy's payment could range from simply passing on word of her as a merchant or as large as influencing the pack to fall into line with Amy's plans.


She saw Caspa glancing at the furs, and smiled obligingly. Amy dragged out the various furs from her wagon, a single bear pelt amongst them. It wasn't a pure black, but flecked with bits of cinnamon. There were also sleek otter pelts perfect for blocking out water. There were deer skins, of course, but they were common, and of lesser value. Are any of these what you wish for?


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#8
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It was difficult to quantify her knowledge into a commodity. Caspa knew a range of things, but she couldn't see how much of it would be of any use to the domineering dog. It was more likely she would be asked for a future claim, but she was certainly not amenable to this idea, if the conditions weren't strictly laid out. She had no reason to mistrust the travelling trader, and perhaps was naive in thinking that she would have heard if a criminal was making the rounds. Still, it went against her principles to bind herself to some future obligation that she could not choose. That was no way to live. It occurred to her then that perhaps the other wolf was under such a bond, hence his servile attitude. Who would agree to such a thing? Only a fool who deserved it. Caspa watched the pair through sharp eyes, observing the dynamic carefully. She would not pledge her life away, but the other two options had sounded promising. Services or information. She could certainly provide anything along those lines, especially for a fur as fine as the bear pelt with its paler guard-hairs: it was stunning. She ran a hand over the soft pelt. "This one is of interest, but they are all valuable. In view of that, in exchange I could offer directions to the trading pack I know of, where you will find many riches and good customers." That way everybody won. Caspa had her fur, Amy had a profitable new source to trade with, and the Arte pack would gain some lovely skins. She fully expected to have to barter further, though. She wasn't so optimistic lately as to see nothing but the positive: and the trade was decidedly skewed towards herself, as it stood.

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#9
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OOC

Word Count → 000


The thin dog had good taste. Amy smiled in appreciation. The price offered was too low, of course, but the sale promised to be rather rich. Now she just had to negotiate. Her quick fingers pulled out the bear skin, putting two deer pelts beside it. The offer of introducing me to another pack is worthy, especially if they're traders. However, I would need you as a guide to get there. To pay for the furs, I'd also like knowledge on your pack, it's needs. That way the next time I come I have items your pack will want.


From Amy that was a generous offer, though there was an ulterior motive to wanting to know about the pack. It would inform her of where their weak points were, so she could get a step inside. It would tell her who will bend to her will, and who could be considered a threat. All of that are important when building a kingdom. She hoped the customer would comply.


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#10
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She supposed the astute Amy was only being fair. Caspa's time was not so precious that she could not sell it for a bear-pelt of this quality. Cour des Miracles was a self-sufficient sort of place, without much by way of needs they could not provide for themselves: but that wasn't to say there weren't smaller luxuries or desires that Amy might find it worth her while to cater to in the future. Caspa would never agree to anything she didn't think she could uphold, nor did she see how giving a little inconsequential information to the other dog could pose a threat, considering the band of traders would be apprehended and removed if they trespassed within the borders. "I agree to your conditions," she answered. "When do you wish to travel?" One hand had already settled in the thick fur, and she was glancing over the wagon, wondering where the passengers rode if the back was already full of trading goods. Perhaps they walked alongside.

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#11
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OOC

Word Count → 000


Amy grinned gladly at Caspa's words. It would be beneficial. We can head out as soon as your goods are unloaded. Sharply Amy snapped her fingers. As if becoming uncoiled Hadley leaped at the noise, reaching for the wagon. The bear pelt was set aside, as was an otter pelt and two deer skins. Is this enough, or is there more that you need?


Amy was rather pleased with Hadley's swift movements, especially considering his injuries. Lazily she scratched him behind an ear, and drew out a piece of dried meat for him. Hadley panted slightly, his arm aching. The pleasant sensation of a scratch behind his ear distracted him from that though. The food was even better, as pleasing her was difficult, and he was often fed only what was needed to keep him looking strong.


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#12
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She was a Samaritan of sorts: a believer in good-will and honour, always keen to prove that living by a moral code was real and possible. She had to admit, she didn't like the subservient way the male was reacting to Amy. The woman was obviously a strong character, and Caspa could only hope that was all there was to it. There seemed to be affection between them too - Caspa was no expert at reading others, but she told herself to be reassured by the physical touch and the two sharing a snack like long-acquainted companions. Perhaps their roles had just become entrenched through time. The alternative was a little sinister. Her face was blank and neutral, darkness of her eyes hiding her scrutiny of the pair, but she reminded herself this was none of her business anyway, and drew her gaze away to the thing that was her business - the furs. "That works." She gathered them up, folding the soft skins, subtly checking for flaws and finding none. "There's somewhere nearby I can store them. I will return in ten or so minutes so we can leave almost at once." She took a short step backwards, waiting for approval from her travelling companions - making sure to glance between both of them. She wasn't going to sideline the male just because he wanted to play the submissive second-in-command.

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#13
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OOC You can post again and then I'll start the one in neutral territory...which one i've forgotten

Word Count → 000


Amy nodded, watching the dog gather up the furs. She didn't miss the check, and was glad that she only took in quality goods. Her reputation as a fair trader hinged on the customer's satisfaction. Yes, she had no qualms with overcharging. She'd done it before, and would do it again. What mattered was that they agreed to it and was pleased with the services she gave in return. Amy always gave the best of her services. It didn't matter if it was with a poor loner living off the skin of his teeth or a powerful alpha, Amy treated them all the same: they were all lower than her.


Moving back around Amy signaled for Hadley to get the wagon ready for travel. Unhappy that his brief respite was over he responded nevertheless. It hurt too much to do otherwise. Meticulously her gaze watched him, making sure there were no mistakes. She didn't take risks when it came to damage on her merchandise. Hadley was clearly an exception, but the care was still there all the same.


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#14
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:] I believe we said Ethereal Eclipse... if you want you can post again here but otherwise feel free to pp Caspa sitting up front/walking alongside or whatever... how about calling the thread 'what is a master'? hehe


It was pure chance that Caspa had got the wrong end of the stick, taking Amy's treatment of her slave as merely signs of a dominating personality, and thinking the affection shown real - but she was gone now before she could witness any more of the mistress-dog's commands, bundle of fur slung over a shoulder and her stride long and quick. She'd promised to be only ten minutes, and it would not be kind to dawdle. She hit the old rutted road before long, and then the stand of tumbledown shacks hove into view, quite different in the clear light of day compared to the fog of months before. Caspa ducked into the first and surveyed it disapprovingly. The clutter and mess was as she remembered, but the terrier-scent long gone, its owner exiled. Thankfully the rest of the furnishings were also as she remembered, a high-up cupboard on one wall sturdy and easily reached if standing upon the tree-stump table. She pushed the furs inside, and turned the handle to secure the wooden cupboard door. They would be safe there. She picked her way back through broken glass and, unencumbered now, jogged easily back to where the wagon awaited her return.

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table image credit to Burksy@flickr
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